Jo Caulfield

Note: This review is from 2003

Review by Steve Bennett

It takes a certain type of person to be able to tell a complete stranger: "You look like a woman who likes a bit of cock" and not only get away with it, but actually endear yourself to them. Jo Caulfield is that type of person.

Salacious banter is her stock in trade, joyfully holding a contest to see who in her audience has had the most sexual partners, and persuading them to reveal intimate details from their past. It's testament to her compering skills that most need little persuading.

On this night, she encouraged a repressed Scandinavian couple to expose their sexual histories to each other - something they hadn't yet discussed in 20 years of marriage. This is a woman who could charm the fish from the sea.

It's not all flighty audience interaction; there's some strong material on offer, too, as Caulfield indulges her wickedly bitchy side.

She's frustrated with her family, bored with her tedious friends and spiteful towards celebrities, and she wants to confide in gloriously evil fashion. She'll surely go to hell for her catty opinions, but at least we get a guilty pleasure from watching the ride.

Ripping into Posh and Becks, Jordan, Jamie Olivier and Heather McCartney, she's like Joan Rivers when she was funny. The targets may be barn-door sized, but Caulfield shows an classy flair in smashing them.

The material's full of surprises, with routines regularly taking unexpected twists to unpredictable punchlines and the audience banter giving a frission of excitement to every gig.

Caulfield is one of Britain's best comics, full stop, and on sparkling form here. Go see - just try not to expose all your darkest secrets to her.

Review date: 1 Jan 2003
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett

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